


Adventures in Time Travel

by 9haharharley1



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Blind Character, Blind Ignis, Blind Ignis is roughly 32, Eventual Smut, I don't know if Noct can handle that, IgNoct, Ignis goes back in time, M/M, Major Character Injury, Multi, Older Ignis, Spoilers, Tags will be added, Time Travel, based on an in-game glitch, no beta we die like men, there's two Ignis here, young Noct and Ignis are 20/22 respectively
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-02 02:38:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10935240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9haharharley1/pseuds/9haharharley1
Summary: While waiting for Noctis to emerge from the Crystal, Ignis stumbles across Umbra. Desperate to see Noct again, Ignis asks Umbra if his power would work on someone other than Noct.It doesn't go quite as planned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently there's a glitch in the game that after Altissia two Ignis' will appear on your screen. This never happened to me, at least not that I noticed, but I've seen screenshots and that gave me some rather risque ideas...
> 
> This started out as a rambling thought I was emailing to a friend and kind of started to form itself. I liked the idea too much to leave it be and so decided to share it. This will be in a different format than my other works. Let me know if it works. Sorry it's so short!

An older, blind Ignis, while waiting for Noct to come out of the crystal, stumbles across Umbra one day. Dearly missing his friend and wishing he had had the chance to spend more time with him before the events of Altissia, asks Umbra if his power can work on someone who isn’t Noct. Umbra barks and Ignis takes that as an affirmative. He’s not sure how it works as he’s only seen Noct do it a handful of times before he lost his sight and by this point it’s been neigh on ten years. Every time involved Noct staring into Umbra’s eyes and Ignis, well, he can’t see. So he patiently sits, petting the dog, when suddenly, everything seems to shift and his equilibrium is thrown off. He feels dizzy and he closes his good eye and color bursts behind his eyes and he thinks for a moment that his sight returns. When he opens his good eye, everything is still dark and he tries not to feel disappointed. Instead, he takes a moment to gather his bearings, feeling around for Umbra. His hand hits a leg. He feels the ground. Instead of his bed in Lestallum, he’s sitting on his bedroll in the tent.

 

Sitting up straight, Ignis gathers himself. Beside him, someone groans. He turns to the sound. He listens carefully. He recognizes the breathing of three of the occupants in the tent and his heart beats harder knowing that Noct is there, _he’s here_ with Ignis, and _god he missed him so much._ But there’s a fourth occupant. That’s not right. They had never invited a fourth person to share the tent, there wasn’t enough room. When Iris or Aranea camped with them, they had a separate tent. Something was wrong.

 

“Ignis, what the hell? What happened?” is the sudden question he’s asked. It’s Noct and _god_ Ignis had missed his voice, the younger man sounding more awake than he would normally in the morning. It’s odd for him to wake up first and he wishes he could see him, but he’ll settle for the sound of him, the feel of his calloused hand on his face, hesitantly tracing a scar. “You were fine last night, what the-”

 

There’s more movement from Ignis’ other side. Someone sits up, and Noct’s breathing hitches in his throat as a startled gasp escapes the other occupant. It’s familiar and surreal and would normally come from his own throat, and that’s when Ignis realizes that something is _very wrong,_ there should not be _two of him_ , he was supposed to relive the past not be a spectator. So he sits still and tilts his head in the younger Ignis’ direction and would have had a staring contest if not for his lack of sight. What did his younger self think of him? Was he wondering where the scars came from? How he lost his sight? Could he accept that this broken man was what he would become? Ignis wonders how this will affect the future of his younger self, how it will affect his own memories.

 

That’s not important though. What is important is Noct, sitting next to him, warm and real and _alive_ , breathing heavy, and he can just imagine the dumbfounded look on the face he so loves. His younger self, not so much. Gladio and Prompto are still sleeping, breath even and slow, not bothered by the commotion Noct has made. He’s glad for it, having not spent as much time with them as he would have preferred since Noct disappeared in the crystal. He’d rather not deal with the extra drama they’re involvement would cause. As it is, Noct and his younger self are taking things in stride.

 

“What’s going on?” Noct asks softly, the faintest traces of fear in his tone. Ignis imagines him sharing a look with the younger Ignis.

 

“Perhaps we should take this outside?” Ignis says. His cane is not with him, so he cautiously reaches a hand out to feel for the opening of the tent. When he does, he stands slowly, exiting the confined space to breathe fresh air in the Duscaean heat. He can feel the sun on his face and it’s been _so long_ , god, it feels wonderful. What he wouldn’t give to actually go back to a time when things were simpler, when the four of them could drive for miles and miles and pretend it was just a road trip, that King Regis was alive and well and ready to welcome his son back with open arms. Ignis places his hands on his hips and simply breathes, eyes closed, enjoying the cool breeze of the early morning, and taking a moment to forget, to remember, to simply _be._

 

He hears shuffling in the tent behind him, Noct and the younger Ignis joining him in the sun. He wants to tell them to enjoy the time they have in the light, with each other, especially to his younger self, but he thinks he was smart enough back then for the younger man to realize. If the scars didn’t give him away, then the slowness of his movements would. He was blind, he was going to become blind, and he briefly entertained the idea of telling the younger Ignis how to avoid such an outcome, but thinks better of it. It may affect the future too much. He’s not sure and he doesn’t want to take that chance. Noct is what’s important right now.

 

“I presume you have some questions for me,” he says instead, turning to where he thinks they are standing. There’s a shuffle of movement, and Ignis tilts his head just so. Both of the younger men are hesitant to answer him and he realizes that he’s older than both of them, wiser, more mature than he once was. It’s been ten years.

 

He feels eyes on him, the intense stare of his younger self, while Noct shuffles his feet. “How are you here?” the prince asks and Ignis smiles.

 

“Umbra sent me,” he says. “Although I think he may have gotten the destination wrong. There should not be two of us here.” He tilts his head to his double.

 

“Umbra? I know he’s magical, but how can a dog create two Ignis’?” Dearest Noct, he sounds so confused.

 

“You’re from the future,” the younger Ignis finally says and it’s so weird to hear his own voice. He even sounds younger, lighter, not quite as jaded as he’s grown to be from the past ten years in the dark. This Ignis hasn’t known true hardship yet, and he’s sympathetic. Already he’s thinking of them as two different people as he doesn’t feel pity for himself at all, hasn’t in years. He nods.

 

“An astute observation,” he says, not quite giving the game away. “May I ask what day it is?”

 

He imagines them sharing a look before his younger self tells him. It’s not long after the fall, and they have yet to reach Lestallum to meet up with Iris. Ignis asks a few questions, listening to them describe their time on the road. His younger is quieter than he would have expected. Maybe the whole blind thing is putting him off… Noct is full of questions that he doesn’t ask, clearly curious about the older version of his closest friend. Ignis can do naught but smile softly at him. He wants to look at him, to gaze into stormy blue eyes, remanence about their shared time in the Citadel, talk about the stars. What he wouldn’t give to go stargazing with him one last time. He hopes that his younger self will appreciate his time with Noct more now after his visit. He wants to say something, something that’s been on his mind since Altissia, something he should have said long ago when Noct first got his apartment and they spent less time together. He wants to impart words of wisdom to his younger self but dares not.

 

The sun creeps higher in the sky and there’s a rustling in the tent. A distant bark can be heard, and soon the sound of padded feet on the earth comes up next to him. Noct is shocked at the sight of Umbra, the younger Ignis says nothing, and the older Ignis simply pats the dog’s head.

 

“Guess it’s time for me to go,” he says lightly. He smiles at the younger men, places his hand on Umbra’s head and lets the messenger lead him away. As he walks, he feels a bout of dizziness, and his world tilts sideways. He feels the backs of his legs hit the edge of his mattress in his closet of an apartment in Lestallum and gives a tiny smile. Umbra is gone and he is alone, but Noct’s voice is fresh in his mind, something he’s thought he’d almost forgotten. He’s almost ashamed of himself, but as he sits down, he laughs quietly. He can already feel the confusion coming on from having met his future self that day in Duscae and an understanding at why said future self was blind.

 

He hopes to see Umbra again soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should really be doing homework... Tell me what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how long this is going to be. Really tried to drag this chapter out, but it was giving me trouble. Still feeling out how these boys would all interact with each other. I shall endeavor to make future chapters longer.

When it happens a second time, Ignis is sitting on the stoop of his apartment building, twirling his cane in his hands as he listens to the sounds around him. He’s lucky; many of the people in Lestallum are refugees and don’t have a roof over their heads. He listens to them talk, he listens to them cry. A couple walking past holds their child close and reassures him that the sun will come back soon. He contemplates going on a hunt just to escape the noise.

 

The sound of feet padding up next to him makes him look up. A dog barks. He knows that sound well. He reaches out a hand to pet Umbra.

 

“Hello,” he says softly. Umbra licks his hand. He stands, leading the messenger dog inside. He wonders how Umbra has fared these many years without Lunafreya and Pryna, without Noct. When he gets inside he offers the dog a piece of meat.

 

“When are you taking me this time?” he asks as he pets Umbra’s head. Umbra barks. Then his world shifts, colors dancing behind his lids and he feels the familiar nausea. There’s a bed underneath him this time, a fan spinning overhead. The window is open and heat fills the room. He forgot how hot Lestallum got during the day. It had significantly cooled off in the perpetual dark.

 

The door opens and Ignis turns his head to the sound.

 

“Holy shit!” Noct shouts, sounding more than a little startled. Ignis smiles.

 

“Noct? What is it, what’s wrong?” he hears his younger self say from the hallway. He sounds more than a little worried and it’s still so weird to hear his own voice.

 

Noct hesitates a moment and Ignis can perfectly picture him standing there with one hand on the doorknob, one hand clutching at his chest, confused.

 

“Noct?” the younger Ignis asks.

 

“It’s fine,” Noct says. “We just… We have a guest.”

 

Ignis imagines the apprehension and worry on his younger self’s face, something he knows he would have felt. He smiles disarmingly as Noct enters the room, his younger behind him pausing in the doorway.

 

“Ah…” his double mumbles. “You again.”

 

“Don’t sound so excited. I know it’s unconventional, but you’ll have to pardon these little visits,” Ignis says, still smiling. This time he has his cane and he grips it firmly, still unsure how to approach these two naïve young men. They have no idea what’s in store for them, just that something very bad is going to happen to Ignis, and that alone must mean that they’re keeping a higher guard than he had back then. He has vague memories of attempting to commit everything to memory, to enjoy the splashes of color during the day. He can remember staring at Noct more, to memorize his face; every detail, every imperfection, the way his midnight hair catches in the wind, his soft smile when Ignis makes his favorite treat, or  how his eyes shine after a successful hunt. He can more clearly remember the younger man’s face than he could before his first visit and he thinks that maybe these trips weren’t a bad idea. “Indulge an old man,” he says to them.

 

“Old man?” Noct says? “Come on, you can’t be that much older. You hardly look any different.” Noct must be comparing his face to the younger Ignis’.

 

“Minus the hair and scars of course,” his double says dryly. The door to the room closes and there’s the sound of bags crinkling as his younger places them on the counter. They must have been shopping. “Don’t suppose you can tell us how that happens?”

 

Ignis smiles, glad that he wasn’t so sensitive back then to poke at himself. “Afraid not,” he says. “I’m not quite sure how it works, but I wouldn’t want to cause a paradox.”

 

“Of course,” the younger Ignis says. He sounds exasperated, fed up with his lot in life, but overall accepting. He’s had some time to think about it. At least he’ll be more prepared for the aftermath if not for the when. Ignis remembers the panic he felt when he opened his good eye for the first time and was met with black. Maybe it’s selfish, but if he can better prepare himself for that moment, he’ll do it.

 

“Can you tell us when you’re from?” Noct asks. The bed shifts next to him and Ignis tilts his head to the younger man. He wonders what Noct thinks of the scars, always had since he got them. He knows that the Noct who disappeared in the Crystal blamed himself, but he wonders what this Noct thinks. Are they ugly? He only has a vague memory from his younger self of what they look like from his last visit, but he can’t quite remember the feeling he had looking at them.

 

“Roughly nine or ten years from now,” he says. He wants to reach out to Noct, to touch his hair, caress his cheek, touch him, _something,_ but he dares not. Instead he settles for a soft smile. He’s afraid to say something he shouldn’t, something that will give away how bad the world has become. “I have a small apartment in Lestallum.”

 

“You don’t go back to the Crown City?” Noct naïvely asks. Ignis holds back a derisive snort. He gives a wan smile.

 

“That would be telling,” he says. He can perfectly picture the pout on his prince’s face.

 

“Fine, be a jerk. Nice to know you don’t change,” Noct says, and Ignis guesses he’s talking to the other one.

 

“Indeed.” He can almost see the younger Ignis adjusting his glasses and it makes his heart ache. He doesn’t want these two young men to go through what lies ahead. He doesn’t want to lose his sight, doesn’t want this younger version of him to lose his sight, and doesn’t want Noct to shoulder the burden of the world on his back. He doesn’t want to lose his closest friend to a soul-sucking hunk of rock and an obsessive madman. More than anything, he wants to tell Noct everything that’s been on his mind the past ten years, everything that he bottled away when they were growing up, everything he should have said when he had the chance.

 

Ignis wonders if there are some things he might be able to change.

 

He prompts Noct to tell him about his day, saying that it’s been a while since he was able to enjoy the sights Lestallum has to offer, and Noct does so. He starts when they had arrived to meet up with Iris, his time with her, their trip to the waterfall and back, Titan, Ardyn and the Regalia and Ramuh, leaving no details out. They’re taking the time to relax while they can before heading out again. Ignis knows all of this already, but as he listens to Noct talk he feels a wave of nostalgia and affection. He can recall wanting to spend more time in the city when they had the chance, wanting to spend more time with Noct, but the group had been so unsure of the future that they wanted to get to Altissia as soon as they could. Knowing that Luna won’t start the ceremony until they get there, and knowing that the future only ensures heartache and misery, he wonders if he can persuade them to take more time for themselves.

 

His younger self is making lunch when Noct finally stops talking as he realizes that it was one of the few times he’s ever heard the younger man say so much at once.

 

“We’re staying for another day or so before we head out again with Iris,” the younger Ignis says, coming over with what must be a tray of sandwiches judging by the smell, or lack thereof. “After what happened to Jared, everyone’s more anxious than ever to take on the Empire.” Ignis holds out a hand and his younger self seems to hesitate before gently taking his hand and placing it on the tray. Ignis feels around for a sandwich. He’s learned to make do in the kitchen only in the last couple years and it’s surreal to eat something he made for himself. Next to him, Noct takes a sandwich of his own. A chair scrapes the floor as the younger Ignis takes a seat at the table.

 

“The Empire can wait,” he finds himself saying after he takes a bite. He makes damn good sandwiches. The air in the room seems to still and he can feel the younger men’s eyes on him. He chooses his words carefully. “Take this time for yourselves. Rest up. The Empire’s not going anywhere.”

 

“But Luna-”

 

“Is fine,” he says. Well, at this current time she is. Noct doesn’t need details. “She’s safe in Altissia for now. The ceremony with Leviathan won’t happen until you get there.” He might be breaking the rules of time-travel right now, but he can’t bring himself to care. He wants these two to enjoy their time together while they can. Maybe it’s selfish, but he’s had time to think and regret. If he can ease some of that, he will. “Enjoy your time together,” he tells them. “Go fishing. Camp. Tell Prompto to take as many pictures as he can. Go on hunts and earn some money.” And some experience. Noct will need it. He grins. “Take down as many MTs as you can along the way.” He can impart _some_ wisdom.

 

They are silent after he ends his little speech. The bed shifts. Noct must have his head in his hands, thinking.

 

“I’m still your advisor in the future,” Ignis says quietly. “Let me advise you.”

 

As he was hoping, his younger self speaks up. “Noct,” he says. “It wouldn’t hurt to take some more time. That raid took a lot out of us. We could use the rest. And if what you say is true,” here Ignis assumed he was looking at him, “then we can afford to do so.”

 

Ignis hesitates a moment, but he places a hand on Noct’s shoulder. He is warm under his hand, warm, and alive, and _breathing._ “Luna is fine, Noct. She’s safe in Altissia. The Empire doesn’t know she’s there. You have time to take a break.” They had certainly needed it at the time.

 

“Things won’t be easy when we leave, will they?” Noct asks quietly. Ignis feels his double’s eyes on him, but he keeps his head turned towards Noct.

 

He doesn’t want to lie, but he doesn’t want to tell them either. He sighs. “No, it won’t. You’ll be tested beyond your limits. That’s why you should enjoy your time while you can.”

 

“Does this have to do with what happened to you? What will happen to my Ignis?”

 

He hesitates again, longer this time, ignoring how that phrase makes his heart jump, beating faster in his chest. He’s longed to hear Noct say something similar and he wonders how his other reacted to the phrase. _My Ignis._ He drops his hand from Noct’s shoulder, instead gripping the handle of his cane with both hands. He never tried to make a move on Noct, always afraid that the younger man wasn’t interested. Ten years was enough to analyze all his interactions with his prince and he realized what a fool he’s been. When his Noct wakes up, he already knows how he will greet him. He wants to do the same with this Noct, so familiar but not. He could hear in his younger’s voice the longing, the affection for his friend, knows exactly what’s going through the younger man’s mind. The other Ignis is so afraid, especially now with the world falling apart around them. He thinks now is the worst time to come clean, with the loss of their home, their families, and with the wedding still looming over them, his past self is still unsure of Noct’s feelings for him, but if Ignis is willing to take a chance on his own Noctis, he’s damn well going to make sure this Ignis takes a chance on him.

 

“What happened to me is inconsequential,” he says eventually, knowing that his younger self will agree, if not now then later. “A small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things.”  He looks towards his double. “I learned to live with it.”

 

“That’s bullshit,” Noct says.

 

This time the younger Ignis speaks. “Noct, he’s right. Whatever happens to me on this journey doesn’t matter. I live to serve, you know this.”

 

“But not to throw a part of you away!” Noct shouts. “How could you say something like that? Ignis, you go _blind!_ Nothing is worth that!”

 

“Noct, Ignis,” he interrupts and it’s weird to address himself. “I am fine. _You_ will be fine. Yes, it’s a big change and it will be difficult, but Ignis will get used to it.”

 

“But he… you… both of you shouldn’t have to!” There’s waver to Noct’s voice and Ignis wonders if maybe he’s done more harm than good by visiting.

 

“I’ve already accepted what will happen to me,” the younger Ignis says quietly. “I assume I can’t change things, but I will at least be prepared for it.”

 

“Iggy, _no,_ ” Noct hisses. “This isn’t fair!”

 

“Life isn’t fair, Noct!” young Ignis shouts. Noct grows quiet, probably shocked that his companion would raise his voice at all. “If life was fair, we’d be back in Insomnia and going about our lives. King Regis would still be alive. You wouldn’t be the Chosen One. We can’t dwell on the past or hope to change the future. I will go blind. We’ve known this for a while now and we can’t change it. I will adjust. The proof is sitting next to you right now.” Ignis can’t help but smile. “The least we can do is accept my fate with some dignity.”

 

There’s a sniffle from the space next to Ignis. Noct heaves a heavy breath. “How can you still want to follow me? Knowing what’s going to happen, how can you…” He chokes on a sob.

 

Ignis’ heart breaks. He wants to wrap his arms around his prince, wants to hold him like he did when they were children and chase away all the bad dreams. He nearly does until he hears the scrape of the chair on the floor and the footsteps coming closer. He hears the rustle of fabric as the younger Ignis kneels down before Noct.

 

“I am glad to serve you,” young Ignis says softly. Ignis turns his head away to give them some semblance of privacy. “I will always be by your side until my dying breath. Even without my sight, I will be beside you.”

 

Noct takes a gasping breath. “You got my back?” he asks quietly.

 

“Always,” both Ignis’ answer. The older Ignis can feel their eyes on him, but he only smiles. He can hear the love in his double’s voice, the devotion, and the heartache. Was he really so obvious with his infatuation with Noct? He’s surprised Prompto or Gladio never said anything.

 

There was a scratching at the door. Noct clears his throat as the younger Ignis stands to answer it. “I believe it’s for you,” he says to the older Ignis upon answering and Umbra pads into the room. The dog goes to Noct first, greeting him with a bark and several licks. Noct chuckles. For him it has only been a few days, but for Umbra, several years. When Ignis feels the messenger rub against his legs he gives Umbra a pet.

 

“Guess it’s time for me to go,” he says lightly. “Remember what I said,” he tells them. “Take some time for yourselves. Fish, camp, take photos. Try not to think about this too much.” He gestures to his eyes.

 

“Kind of hard not to,” young Ignis snorts.

 

Ignis smiles self-deprecatingly. “Suppose so.” He pets Umbra’s head, closing his good eye and the world shifts. Color explods behind his lids, he feels vaguely nauseous, but he’s still sitting. The bed under him is more firm than the one in the past. Umbra is gone. He falls back on his bed with a sigh, taking off his visor and rubbing his eyes. He wonders if anyone else in the world had ever played matchmaker for their past self and if so, how they went about it. Kicking his boots off, he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's an interesting challenge to write from the point of view of a blind man...


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're getting there.

There’s someone in his apartment when he returns from a hunt, the room cooler than normal and the faint scent of freshly fallen snow in the air. Ignis is immediately alert, a dagger already drawn from its sheath on his leg. He can hear breathing, but it’s slow, like the person isn’t taking in as much air as a living being needs. He closes the door slowly behind him.

 

“You are wary,” the intruder says.

 

Ignis recognizes the voice and he relaxes his stance, but keeps the dagger in hand. “Gentiana,” he greets politely. “Or should I address you as Shiva?”

 

There’s a rustle of fabric and he wonders if she just shrugged. “Either works,” she says. She sounds weirdly informal. “You have done well for yourself these ten years.”

 

“I get by,” he says.

 

“You are angry.”

 

“Not specifically at you, but it has been quite some time since the Astrals have been in my good graces.” Ignis slowly sheaths his weapon, walking further into his apartment to sit at his dining table. He tilts his head toward his guest. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

Gentiana hums softly. “Umbra has been visiting you.”

 

Ignis nods. “He has.”

 

“And how are your trips?”

 

“Conflicting.” He crosses his arms. “I take it you’re the one sending him to me?”

 

“Umbra is a messenger of the gods,” she says and Ignis can hear the smile in her voice, “but like any canine, he does not always listen.”

 

“So he’s been visiting me on his own?”

 

“Yes and no.” There’s the scrape of a chair across from him as Gentiana takes a seat. “I sent him the first time. He came to you on his own the next.”

 

“Why send him at all?” It’s been bothering Ignis since Umbra first came to him.

 

“You seemed... down,” Gentiana says, still smiling.

 

Anger fills the blind man. His nails dig into his arm. “You sent me back to see Noctis to cheer me up? Only I couldn’t see him because I can’t see.”

 

“Not to see him,” Gentaina says gently. “Simply to remember. Unlike the Chosen, however, you were not meant to go back. You were to relive your time then as he would have had he used Umbra’s power, but you are not of the Lucian bloodline. You went back as an active participant rather than a spectator.”

 

“So I gathered,” Ignis huffs.

 

“You cannot change the past,” she continues softly, “merely watch as events unfold. You can alter the way they perceive the world, but everything will eventually happen as they should. You will lose your sight even if you describe to your past self how to avoid such an outcome. The Chosen King will still slumber inside the Crystal even if you tell him not to go to Gralea. You can explain to them every little detail that happens in your life, and it will only change how they approach the situation mentally. You will be better prepared to a life of darkness. The Chosen will be better equipped to accept the burden of the Ring of the Lucii. So on and so forth.”

 

“Lot of good going back does then,” Ignis mumbles. He knows that he’s wrong, but to call the Astrals on their bullshit is cathartic. He noticed a change in his own memories after his first visit almost immediately. He appreciates the freedom he once had and stopped taking his sight for granted. He can more clearly remember color then he once could, can better picture the faces of his comrades, of Noct. And after his second visit, he could recall a change in his relationship with the prince. Noct had always been open to him, but he had become more so after his last visit. Ignis could recall the younger man doing little things for him, helping out when he could, complaining less about the vegetables he put in his meals. He had usually been the one to drive the Regalia, but instead of simply assuming he would, Noct started asking if he wanted to drive at all, if he would rather take in the scenery around them. It was little things; a lingering touch on the shoulder during a hunt, a gaze over the campfire that lasted just a little too long. When Gladio and Prompto would go for a morning run, Noct would force himself awake to help with breakfast. If it was possible, Ignis’ affection for him grew stronger in that time and he thinks he might love Noct even more now. There was an understanding between them. Ignis’ freedom was limited and they had only so much time to enjoy it.

 

He wonders how much it would take to push them in the right direction.

 

“There are small things you can change.” Gentiana’s voice interrupts his thoughts. “How you interacted with each other after your visit changed. I’m sure your memories are different from what they once were.”

 

“Why are you here?” Ignis asks, straight to the point. Gentiana has been nothing but helpful to him and his friends since their journey began all those years ago, but he has grown weary of the Six using them as pawns in their family feud.

 

The goddess is quiet for a moment. “Simply to provide some measure of happiness.” There’s the scrape of a chair, her footsteps light on the wood floors. Her hand is cold when she places it over one of his own. “I am… fond of the little king and of his friends. Lady Lunafreya was dear to me. I only wish to provide the same joy she gave me.” Ignis remains silent.

 

There’ scratching at the door. Gentiana stands and walks to the door to answer, Umbra padding into the room. He barks, coming to a stop next to Ignis.

 

“He’s taken a liking to you,” Gentiana says. Hesitantly, Ignis pets the dog’s head, earning a nudge to his leg. He opens his mouth to address the Astral, but the air grows warm and Umbra barks again. He takes that to mean she has left. He tilts his head to the animal.

 

“The gods are infuriating,” he says simply. Umbra licks his hand as though in agreement and Ignis smiles.

 

She hadn’t told him anything he hadn’t already guessed. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sway anyone in the past to deviate from their journey, and as much as he wanted to save Noct, he couldn’t just let the world fall to ruin. That decision was up to the rightful King, and despite his hesitance, Noct would do what he was destined to. Ignis didn’t have to like it, though.

 

“When are we going now?” he asks the messenger. Even as the words leave his mouth, his equilibrium is thrown off and he’s grateful to be sitting. He’s come to look forward to the burst of color, having been without it for so long, but not so much to the familiar nausea. When the world rights itself, he is sitting on a folding chair outside the tent, a roaring fire heating his face. Nostalgia hits him hard. He’s sat in front of a fire many times over the years on hunts but he is usually alone. Sometimes Aranea or Cor would accompany him, sometimes it would be Gladio or Prompto, but it’s been so long since they could all be together. Prompto spends most of his time in Hammerhead and Gladio is still torn up about not being able to shield his king from Ardyn and the Crystal, even ten years later. He throws himself at the daemons, taking down as many as he physically can before exhaustion kicks in and he is forced to rest. Ignis has yelled himself blue in the face to get him to take a break, but Gladio won’t hear it.

 

There’s a clatter to his right where he guesses the portable grill is, so that must be his past self. He must have noticed the newcomer and startled. Ignis smiles in his direction.

 

“Iggy, what’s taking you so long?” There’s a rustle as the flaps of the tent are pushed back and Noct emerges. Ignis hears him inhale a sharp breath.

 

“Everything ok out there?” he hears Gladio ask, and even he sounds younger, more carefree than Ignis has come to expect of him. It makes his heart ache.

 

“Everything’s fine,” the young Ignis calls back as Noct fully exits the tent. “Noct, come help me for a moment.”

 

“…Sure.” He feels a hand on his shoulder, warm, comforting, and Noct urges him to stand. The younger man is unsure of how to handle a blind man and Ignis reaches up to ruffle his hair. His hair is soft, freshly washed. Either there’s a stream nearby or they stayed at a motel that morning. Ignis doesn’t ask. He’s missing his cane again, so he allows Noct to lead him to the edge of the camp where his younger self is. “It’s only been a week since we left Lestallum,” Noct says softly. He doesn’t want to alert the occupants of the tent and Ignis is glad for it. He really doesn’t want to deal with Prompto’s questions or Gladio’s aggression. “Iris is asleep in the other tent. We took your advice and took some time to relax.”

 

“You were right,” the younger Ignis says grudgingly. “We needed some time to wind down.”

 

“I imagine Gladio wasn’t too thrilled with the news,” Ignis says. He remembers Gladio being the driving force behind them reaching Altissia as soon as possible.

 

“Not really,” says Noct. He shifts in place next to Ignis. “We… sort of got into it when I told him. Things have been kind of tense.”

 

“Pay him no mind,” Ignis tells him. “Gladio is going through his own internal struggles. Things will be clearer after you reach Cape Caem.”

 

“Guess you can’t us tell what’s going to happen then?” young Ignis asks, and if possible, he sounds even more annoyed with him than he had in Lestallum. Ignis admits that he’s kind of getting a kick out of being vague with them, and his past self probably realizes it, too.

 

He shakes his head. “That’s for Gladio to tell, not me.” He hears a daemon growl in the distance, probably eyeing the camp and the humans. He keeps one ear on it even though he knows the spells surrounding the haven will hold strong. He’s grown paranoid since he got back into the hunting scene.

 

“So…” Noct starts. Ignis tilts his head to him and imagines the younger man blushing. It’s incredibly endearing when he does so. “Has the future changed at all? Are these trips to the past making a difference?”

 

Ignis hesitates to answer, unsure what to tell him. “Yes and no,” he settles for. “Are there any major differences? No. The future is set, and no matter what I say or do in this time will alter your actions. I- this Ignis will go blind. You…” He pauses. He turns away from Noct, hoping that he’s at least looking in the general direction of this time’s Ignis. “Events will unfold as the Astrals have dictated. Do I have to like it? No.”

 

“And the parts that have changed?”

 

“Are a bit more personal.” He sighs softly. “You knowing now that I go blind means that I have an appreciation for things I once took for granted. I can recall colors, images, faces.” More specifically, Noct’s face, but he won’t say that. He wants these two to figure things out on their own, but he knows himself better. He was too scared then to make a move. He’ll have to actively push himself to say something. “My memories of interacting with people are different.”

 

“Good different or bad different?”

 

He shrugs. “Just different.”

 

“Some help you are,” Noct huffs. “We’re trying to improve our future here, you know.”

 

“And I appreciate it,” he smiles in Noct’s direction, placing a hand on his shoulder. Noct doesn’t tense under his touch and he’s grateful. Even with the scars and the age and the lack of sight, Noct still sees him as his friend. It’s nice to interact with him without Noct feeling like he was the cause of his blindness. He knows he has a bit of a jealousy streak and he wonders what the younger him must think of this little contact. Is he bothered by the familiarity? He had long learned to accept Gladio and Prompto’s interactions with the prince, but himself?

 

Wondering just how far he can push it, he casually lets his hand drag down to the small of Noct’s back, finally feeling the younger man tense, but just so. He wishes he could see just so he could observe his younger’s reactions and the blush Noct is no doubt sporting.

 

The younger Ignis clears his throat. “Are you staying long this time? We have a long day tomorrow in the Malmalam Thicket and I still need to clean up.” He can almost detect a note of possession in his tone. Has he always been that jealous? And over such a little touch at that.

 

Ignis gives himself an easy smile. “I just wait for Umbra to show up when I visit. He lets me know if I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He kind of enjoys teasing his naïve counterpart, keeping his hand on the prince’s back, heart jumping when Noct leans into his touch. Maybe he really never had anything to fear after all?

 

There’s the very faint sound of leather crinkling and Ignis guesses his younger just balled his hands into fists. “Right. Well, I’m sure Umbra will be here any minute.”

 

“Getting rid of me so soon?” He’s feeling decidedly playful, and wonders what his memory of this moment will be like when he returns to his own time. “Indulge an old man.” He slips his hand down to Noct’s hip, squeezing gently, greatly enjoying the little gasp the prince emits.

 

“H-how old are you, anyway?” Noct asks. He squirms in Ignis’ hold and the older man pulls him in gently so that they’re pressed together.

 

“I just turned thirty-two in my time.” Noct still isn’t trying to escape his grasp. Growing bold, Ignis lets his thumb slip under Noct’s shirt, feeling warm skin, _so warm_ , and he pulls him closer. Noct shivers and it’s a heady feeling, one Ignis wants to chase. He hears the younger Ignis make a noise, like a choked off growl, and he can’t help but flash a smirk in his general direction. Oh, but how he wishes he could see! What emotions are playing across his own face? Is Noct blushing? Is he affected at all by his actions? He’s tempted to ask, but he keeps those questions to himself. “It wasn’t much of a birthday,” he says instead, stroking his thumb along heated skin, turning his head to breath in the scent of Noct’s hair. It’s something he hasn’t done in _ages_ and it’s more comforting than he realized. “Just a small gathering of friends at my apartment.”

 

“Good to know I still have friends,” young Ignis all but growls out. Blind Ignis holds back a laugh. He never knew he was _that_ jealous. “Now, if you’d be so kind, please unhand _my time’s_ Noct and go back to your own. I’m sure he’s having a tough time without you.”  


“Hey!” Noct whines and Ignis’ good mood turns sour with the reminder that he doesn’t have a Noct to take care of, to reprimand, to guide, to advise, to _love._ _His_ Noct lay slumbering in a hunk of rock and Ignis has no idea when he will emerge. He’s reluctant to admit that he’s had a tough time without his own Noct all these years. Instead, he forces a smile and with one final squeeze to his prominent hip, lets Noct go. He can’t be sure without visual confirmation, but he thinks that Noct might actually be reluctant to move away from him. He does so anyway, slowly.

 

There’s the familiar sound of dishes being put away and the grill being cleaned. Noct moves away from him.

 

“Let me help with that, Iggy,” the prince says.

 

Young Ignis chuckles softly, affectionately. “I go blind, Noct, not invalid.”

 

Noct snorts playfully. “Well, you’re technically not blind yet, so let me help while you can still boss me around.”

 

God, they’re so in love it’s disgusting. How in the name of the Six had Prompto and Gladio not forced them to come clean with each other back then? Having a peek from a third party perspective is really making things quite obvious now. It really wouldn’t take much to push these two idiots in the right direction. He places a hand over his face, feeling quite embarrassed for himself.

 

Still, it’s nice to know that they have both accepted his eventual disability, at least on the surface. Maybe Noct will be less likely to blame himself after Altissia. His own Noct would hopefully be rid of that particular burden at least.

 

He stands there listening to them clean and banter, feeling more and more like a third wheel, but their noise is comforting. He carefully makes his way back to the lawn chair he sat in earlier, retracing his steps. He’s content to remanence, listening to the crackle of the dying fire, the teasing, the faint sound of Gladio, Iris, and Prompto’s even breathing. Sighing softly, he tilts his head back towards the sky and closes his good eye, feeling the wind rustle his hair. Not for the first time, he wishes that events wouldn’t transpire the way they have to. Not just for his own sake, but for all his friends. Iris will be forced to grow up much earlier than she should. Granted, she makes a name for herself and becomes quite the renowned hunter, but right now she’s still a kid. She’ll never be able to just hang out with her friends, or shop, or lead a life that doesn’t involve danger. Prompto won’t get the chance to pursue a professional photography career. He’ll have to endure who knows what kind of torture at the hands of Ardyn. Even after ten years, he still won’t go into detail about what happened when he was captured. And Gladio… Gladio will drive himself into the ground, determined to take as many daemons as he can with him before he can take a shot at Ardyn. Without Noct to protect, Gladio is lost, unable to fulfil his duty to his king and his house.

 

Ignis... Ignis is managing, but barely. For a majority of his life, taking care of Noct was his responsibility, but somewhere along the way became less about his own devotion to the Crown and more about his devotion solely to Prince Noctis. Caring for Noct was something he _wanted_ to do. He _wanted_ to spoil Noct, he _wanted_ to cook for him, _wanted_ to care for him, to protect him. Gladio had often accused him of being a mother hen. The truth was that he _liked_ playing the mother hen. It was in his nature to do so, and as Noct had stated many times in the past, it was a hobby. He hated to admit it, but he _needed_ Noct. Without him… he didn’t know what to do.

 

So lost in his own thoughts, he barely catches the soft footsteps walking up to him before a gloved hand lands on his shoulder. He tilts his head in acknowledgement.

 

“We’re heading to bed,” Noct says softly. “Will you be alright out here?”

 

Ignis smiles. “I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve sat alone in front of a fire.” Unwilling to leave Noct with the thought of what his life must be like in the future, he’s quick to continue. “Umbra should be along shortly.”

 

Noct’s hand is warm on his shoulder and he leans into it, placing a hand over the appendage. The younger man hesitates. “Ok… Good night.” It’s been so long since he heard the other man say that and he sighs, tightening his hand just so. Noct squeezes his shoulder back before letting go slowly, almost hesitantly. Ignis listens to him enter the tent, followed closely behind by the younger Ignis. He’s left alone with the distant growl of daemons and his own tumultuous thoughts.

 

It’s not long before he hears Umbra trot up to him and he greets the canine with a soft stroke to his head. The dog licks his hand and the world goes sideways. He’s back in his tiny kitchen in a heartbeat, still sitting at the table like he never left. Umbra is gone.

 

He gets up slowly and walks to his bed, lying down with a sigh. If he concentrates hard enough, he can recall the confused feelings he had felt watching an older version of himself holding Noct close, the confidence the older him exuded, the sureness of his actions. He was indeed jealous, and had felt ridiculous for it, because how could he be jealous of himself? But much like his present mindset, the past Ignis also viewed themselves as separate people to an extent. He had difficulty believing he would actually go blind, but had accepted it. He hadn’t been an unconfident person back then, but seeing a version of himself who was unafraid to touch Noct with such familiarity had been…more than a little infuriating.

 

Something about him had changed that night. He hadn’t become more open per se, but maybe a little flirty and definitely bolder. He touched Noct more, casual touches that didn’t mean anything when given a passing thought, but they lingered. A hand on the shoulder, a hand on the small of his back, a gentle brush against an arm or thigh. Noct never shied away from him, even turning a wonderful shade of red on many such occasions. Noct never called him on it, and even returned his subtle advances. The tension between them grew, but they never took it further.

 

On his next trip, he’d have to push them that last little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Older Ignis is a fucking player. 
> 
> More exciting things will happen in the next chapter, I promise!


End file.
